


haven

by kittykais



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bang Chan is Whipped, Bang Chan is a Good Significant Other, Fluff, Gay, Kissing, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Confident Gay, M/M, No Angst, No angst at all, and this si just rlly soft okay, happy birthday channie i hope you have the bestes of days, i love minchan, i wrote this in three hours straight im kinda rlly tired rn lol, there are some tears but they arent bad, they dance to summertime sadness in the kitchen, this is just 3 point 7 k of kissing, unedited as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittykais/pseuds/kittykais
Summary: Chan shuts his eyes, breathing in softly and leaving him bare for Minho to do as he pleases. Minho presses one kiss to Chan’s right eyelid. “I love you.” And another to his left, stamping praises into Chan’s skin so that he’ll feel the sheer amount of love Minho has for him forever. Minho wants him forever. He wants to touch, he wants to feel, he wants anything and everything Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.OR: a minchan oneshot that chia wrote on a whim because she found a post saying that chan's eyes hold a galaxy and then this happened three hours later oopsSTARRING: a 23 year old Bang Chan who has all of the stars in his eyes, and a Very Whipped Lee Minho who just really wants the best for his baby yanno?FEATURING: chia's tears, chia's pain and suffering, and lots of gayness and its so fluffy and cute this might be my favorite fic that ive written honestly lmao oh also Summertime Sadness and Sweater Weather (KHS version)
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 20
Kudos: 68





	haven

**Author's Note:**

> no i am Not crying NO IM NOT CHANNIE IF YOU SEE THIS I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I KNOW I SAID THAT I WOULDNT WRITE YOU A ONESHOT IN MY AMONG US SEUNGSUNG FIC (go read that pls n thx) BUT I DID ANWYAYS IN LIKE THREE HOURS its unedited but i like it a lot heh 
> 
> have fun~

**haven**

Minho smiles, tracing over Chan’s face, the hills and the curves and the dimples he loves so much. “Your eyes are my galaxy, you know that?” Minho whispers, staring into Chan’s eyes. They sparkle in the night, doing nothing else but proving Minho’s point exactly. 

“My eyes are small, that’s a pretty small galaxy.” Chan laughs, deep and throaty and  _ wow _ Minho loves him. 

Minho scoffs, touching the skin under Chan’s eyes with his thumb, smoothing over the dark circles lightly. Chan shudders, breath exhaling as he gazes at Minho. 

“They’re small, but they’re deep. They contain millions upon millions of stars that only exist because you brought them there, because of the lives you’ve brought together, Chan. Your eyes show emotion, they show the pain and the sadness and the happiness. Your eyes are gorgeous, Channie.” 

Chan’s eyes widened in shock, a pale blush spreading over his cheeks, blood rushing to his face quickly, made even more prominent by the stark light above them. Minho traces over Chan’s eyebrows this time, mapping the skin out with his thumb, memorizing every single plane and valley the other man has to offer. 

“I love you.” 

Chan shuts his eyes, breathing in softly and leaving him bare for Minho to do as he pleases. Minho presses one kiss to Chan’s right eyelid. “I love you.” And another to his left, stamping praises into Chan’s skin so that he’ll feel the sheer amount of love Minho has for him forever. Minho wants him forever. He wants to touch, he wants to feel, he wants anything and everything  _ Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.  _

A single tear slips out of Minho’s eye but he doesn’t pay attention, ignoring the wetness in order to press his lips against Chan’s nose this time. Chan’s eyes flutter beneath his eyelids, Minho being able to feel every single movement the older does. Chan’s powerless under Minho’s touch, shivering as Minho takes him apart with his touch. 

He presses a kiss to Chan’s forehead now, a big one right in the middle. The mood breaks for a second, Chan giggling at the feeling. Minho smiles against Chan’s skin. “I love you.” Another one, except it’s slightly lower down. “I love you so much.” Another, to the right, lower. And another. And another. Minho trails his lips until he reaches Chan’s cheek, peppering small pecks across the smooth skin there. Chan breaths in, content. They’re content. 

There’s sunlight streaming in from the window to their right, the both of them bundled up on the bed. It’s still quite early, only 7am, but they’re up because their bodies ordered them to wake. Minho spends the time pressing more kisses along Chan’s other cheek, savoring the moment while he still can. 

_ God _ , Minho loves Chan so much. Loves him so much his heart hurts when he looks at him, beats wildly in his chest every time the other even so as winks, thrums loudly when Chan smiles, and curls up contently when Chan hugs him. Minho loves everything about him, from his broad shoulders to his damanged curls to his stupid silk button ups and beanies and his stupid pink lips and maybe Minho’s a Harry Potter thrusted into the world of one Draco Malfoy, unable to escape from whatever spell has been cast upon him. 

Minho presses a kiss to Chan’s lips,  _ finally _ , finally giving them both what they want. He kisses Chan slowly, lips moving against one another, just a press so they can  _ feel _ . Minho sighs against Chan’s lips, feeling the other smile slightly and moves Minho so that he’s laying on top of him. Minho still has tears running down his cheeks, but Chan pays no mind, kissing him again while his thumbs race across Minho’s cheeks, wiping away the tears as they come. 

The house is completely silent, the kids having gone away the night before to give them their privacy. Minho grips Chan’s biceps harder, revelling in the way he gasps against his lips, tongue swiping against his. Minho presses down harder, then releases, worrying Chan’s bottom lip between his own. 

They seperate, pressing their foreheads together as they just  _ look _ . Look at each other, emotions running through their eyes and tingles running under their skin. Fire alights when Minho intertwines their fingers, Minho’s smaller hand engulfed by Chan’s own slightly larger. 

Chan giggles when he finds Minho’s hand to be slightly sweaty, Minho rolling his eyes in good nature because swatting him lightly. Chan smiles softy at him and  _ oh god _ his smile is so soft and sappy it makes Minho want to do things he’d never imagine wanting to do. 

(Domestic things, things like running his hands through Chan’s chrispy locks, or pressing him into the kitchen counter, spatula in hand, kissing him softly while wearing a Kiss The Cook apron. Minho wants to marry him, watch the stars alight in his eyes and the world's align in their hands. Minho wants to see the happiness, the pain, the pleasure, the excruciating wonders of success. Minho wants to do it _all_ with Chan, and this time. This time, he isn’t so scared.)  
A fresh wave of tears runs down Minho’s cheeks, Chan’s eyes going glassy as he looks at his lover on top of him. Minho sniffles, burying his face into Chan’s neck, sobbing when he feels a hand in his hair, petting him softly. “I love you,” Minho says, mouthing along the juncture between Chan’s neck and shoulder. “I love you so much it hurts.” Chan exhales shakily, and Minho knows he’s crying now, knows because he just knows Chan that well, doesn’t he? 

Minho’s heart beats wildly in it’s ribcage, overwhelmingly loud in his ears. He moves further down Chan’s body, pressing an ear to his chest. Chan isn’t wearing a shirt, like usual, so Minho can feel just how  _ warm _ Chan is. Because Chan is warm. Warm and cuddly and so, so,  _ so _ safe. Haven. Chan’s his haven, his home, his anything and everything. 

Minho untangles one of his hands from Chan’s own and runs it along Chan’s pecs, breath washing against the warm skin. His hands follow goosebumps against the smooth planes, dotted by beauty marks and miniscule scars that only prove to show how perfect Bang Chan is. 

“I love you, Channie.” Minho says, again, because he does. And Chan should know. Chan chuckles from under him, hand still playing with Minho’s hair. Time has stopped around him, the clicking of the clock has stopped and the birds have stopped chirping. The world stops for them because it knows they don’t have much time left. 

“You’ve said that so much already, Minmin.” Chan whispers, voice suddenly too loud for their atmosphere. Minho feels like he’s floating, floating in the midst of just  _ Chan _ . There’s nothing else around him, nothing else matters, just the man in his arms and the beating of the heart under him. Minho knows Chan’s okay because he can  _ hear _ his heart,  _ feel  _ it,  _ knows _ that everything will be fine. Because everything  _ will  _ be fine because Chan. 

Minho’s thoughts become incoherent, a jumbled mixture of his heart and of his boyfriend, praises littering the depths of his mind that can only see stars when he looks into his eyes. 

Minho looks up , exhaling shakily and locking eyes with Chan. There are tears glossing his eyes, making them sparkly, luminescent in the pale light that floods the room. Alexithymia takes control of Minho now, because suddenly his throat closes up and all he can do is choke on his words and press them into Chan’s skin, a tap tap of fingers that spell out words as they skitter across Chan’s chest. 

Chan stops his movements to just close his eyes and  _ feel _ , feel the words on his chest and what they mean, feel the love Minho has for him, feel the apricity in the air and the magic around them and the stars that they both hold in their eyes. 

Minho’s eyes are shut closed, skin wet from his tears, fingers still tapping words into Chan’s skin, breath evening out slowly. 

Eventually they both begin to calm down. Minho’s fingers stop skittering and Chan’s start patting again, pushing the stray overgrown hairs behind Minho’s ear and away from his face. Chan smiles, a big, toothy smile that makes Minho’s heart go boom boom and his stomach to somersaults in his poor body. 

Minho sniffles again, smacking Chan’s abdomen lightly. Chan squeals, voice still soft in the quietness that blankets them and Minho laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners and teeth peeking out from underneath his lips. Chan’s eyes widen and his breath hitches, thumb coming over slowly to swipe over Minho’s bottom lip. 

Minho smiles wider, crawling back up on Chan so that they’re face to face again. Chan’s eyes are sparkling again, wide open and soft and they’re filled with so much emotion that Minho just wants to stare into them forever. Chan’s eyes tell a story, they’re the only way you can get to his soul. They’re the only part that can truly show you what he’s feeling, what’s happening in that beautiful mind of his. 

Minho’s eyes flutter close and he presses his lips against Chan’s again, pressing away the painful memories they’ve both had to go through. This happens every year, the memories flooding back to the both of them, when they stand in front of the kids and just stop to smell the roses of their success- and to feel the pain of the thorns that come with it. 

Minho kisses away the memories of Chan being such a fucking eccedentiaist, hiding his pain behind such a beautiflu smile. Minho kisses away the memories of other people that have hurt his baby, kisses away everything until only happiness and comfort are left. 

Because that’s what Channel deserves. He doesn’t deserve the pain, he doesn’t deserve  _ anything  _ but happiness in this damaged world. 

Minho kisses him harder, forcing open Chan’s mouth gently and tangling their fingers together. The light from the window shines even brighter. It wraps around them, it blankets them in all the warmth it has to offer. The roses outside their window flutter in the breeze, sharp thorns peeking out from blood red petals. A bee bombinates near their flowers. Minho smiles. 

Chan squeezes their fingers together. 

_ Haven _ . 

\---

Later, after they sleep in for a little bit, Chan comes shuffling into the kitchen, hair messy from bed, shorts hanging low on his hips. He’s rubbing at his eyes with pale fingers, trying to make the sleep go away. He looks devastatingly soft. 

Minho coos and holds his arms out, wooden spatula clenched tightly in his hand as Chan shuffles on over to him. Minho giggles when he finally has Chan in his arms, wrapping Chan up into him and locking his hands together behind Chan’s back. Chan exhales and holds Minho’s waist in his hands, nuzzling Minho’s neck. 

They stay like that, swaying from side to side in the kitchen. Minho’s wearing his Kiss the Cook apron, tiny chef hat tied to the top of his head, messy brown strands peeking from under the white fabric. The light around them has grown harsher, but no less warm. 

Minho can see the roses more clearly now, lining the windowsill as they face the sunlight. Minho smiles and presses a kiss to the top of Chan’s head, fluffy black curls pressed down under Minho’s lips. Chan giggles, the sound reverberating around the room. Minho loves the sound of Chan’s laughs. It’s always so light, happy,  _ carefree _ . Chan sounds so free when he laughs, when he lets go and gives himself the opportunity to be free for once. 

Drapetomia flows over them like a tidal wave hitting the beach where they stand, unmoving. They could leave. They could leave if they wanted to. 

Chan shakes his head slightly, pulling back a tad to look at Minho softly. “Stay.” Minho smiles, a soft one that still manages to overtake his face completely. The warmth he’s feeling makes so much more sense now. 

“Fine.” 

Chan giggles again, hand trailing down Minho’s chest to the blaringly neon pink embroidery on Minho’s apron. It reads “Kiss the Cook.” Chan looks up at him suggestively a million and a one things in his eyes are better left unsaid. 

“Kiss the cook, it says.” Chan murmurs, breath smelling strongly of mint and washing over Minho’s face in warm puffs. Minho nods slightly, eyes locked in with Chan’s. Goodness, his eyes are so  _ beautiful.  _

“Your eyes are so pretty.” Minho whispers and oops- he was supposed to be kissing Chan instead, based on the way Chan’s looking at him, all soft and pouty, lips pushed up firmly to bring Minho the highest state of devastation possible to mankind. 

Chan pouts even more and swoops upwards to plant a kiss on Minho’s lips. Minho giggles, twirling them around the kitchen in dizzying circles. Minho wonders if he’ll be able to hold Chan and swing him properly, but then he looks at him properly. Chan is about 100% muscle, and Minho does Not want to try lifting him up. 

Nevertheless, Minho continues to twirl Chan around the kitchen, managing to tell Lexie to play his Spotify dancing playlist. Summertime Sadness comes on and Chan sighs happily, spinning Minho around on his toes, nearly bumping into the corner of the counter as he does so. Minho gasps in shock, blinking rapidly as Chan dips him smoothly, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips as he does so. 

Chan laughs again, bells and happiness bursting out of him. Minho smiles widely, grabbing onto Chan’s arm and pulling him in quickly. Chan trips and falls just as the chorus of Summertime Sadness plays, eyes widening in surprise and excitement as they land on the floor, elbows protecting their heads. 

Chan’s above him now, smirk every present on his face and eyebrows slightly raised. Minho scrunches his nose, sticking his tongue out at Chan. 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Chan says, taking hold of Minho’s arms and placing them above Minho’s head. Minho growls playfully, squirming under Chan’s touch. Chan smirks. 

“And what are you going to do about it?” Minho whispers, trying to make his voice as sultry as possible. It works-kind of. Chan looks a second close from laughing again, but his eyes still contain the want to kiss Minho. 

So Minho kisses him first. (Or well, as best as he can, seeing as his hands are Not Available For Use as of now. He makes it worth- this isn’t the first time he’s been tied up, after all.)

Minho kisses Chan with a fervour, wrapping his legs around Chan’s hips and pulling him down so that their torso’s touch. Minho’s only wearing a loose tank top on the upper half of his body, one strap already sliding off his shoulder to reveal even more bare skin. 

Chan kisses him back equally as hard, licking into Minho’s mouth, biting his lips until they’re red and bitten and bruised, marked with Chan, Chan and  _ only _ Chan. Minho tackles him, wrenching his arms out of Chan’s grasp and cushioning his head as they fall backwards. This time, it isn’t as smooth, so the both of them end up on their sides, legs tangled together and knees hurting. 

Minho’s laughing, he’s laughing so hard because the both of them are so  _ stupid _ but they’re happy and in love and that’s what matters, isn’t it? Of course it is. Chan presses a quick kiss to Minho’s lips, helping him up so that they can go and actually eat breakfast. “I love you, dumbass.” 

Minho laughs, flicking Chan’s forehead lightly. “You’re the bigger dumbass between the both of us, you know that, right?” 

Maybe Minho kisses Chan’s pout away. And maybe Minho stacks together a pile of pancakes and calls it Chan’s birthday cake. And maybe Minho kisses even more pouts away afterwards-but whipped cream flavored this time, since Chan finds it fitting to spray half of the bottle on one (1) waffle. Seungmin’s going to kill them if he figures out, scolding them both for not taking care of their teeth properly, but they couldn't care less. 

(Maybe Chan accidently gets a bit of whipped cream on his nose and maybe Minho kisses his nose to get it off.  
(Maybe they danced to Summertime Sadness again, and maybe they made out against the kitchen counter, just like Minho had wanted them too.)

\---

It’s a little bit later now. The sun is high in the sky, the house warmer than ever. The kids are still gone, as they had promised. Minho kind of misses them, but they both know, in the very depths of their soul, that they needed a peaceful day. With them. Just them. Minho and Chan. Chan and Minho. (A leader kangaroo and his baby kitten.)

They’re in the living room, now, tangled up together on the couch. There’s time to kill, the entire day to waste. No deadlines, no schedules, no rowdy members to disturb them from the mellowness that surrounds them. Chan is singing Haven, voice mellifluous as it washes over Minho. 

Minho still hasn’t given Chan his birthday present yet. It’s just a choreo of a song Minho knows Chan loves (he’s always singing it when he gets the chance). The choreography...it’s something Minho has been working on for two months now, in the spaces between time itself and Minho’s own sanity. But he’s proud of it. 

Very proud. 

Minho traces more shapes onto Chan’s chest, listening to the way the skin trembles under his touch, goosebumps arising from the mere presence of Minho’s skin on his. He smirks, pressing a kiss there. Chan doesn’t flinch, continuing to sing Haven slowly, adding in changes here and there to the tune. 

Minho joins in after a while, voice harmonizing with Chan’s as they sit together and bask in the sunlight. Step out. Do what you want. Minho crescendos his voice as Chan decrescendos, jumping off the couch and twirling around. Chan doesn’t join him, instead takes his phone out to record Minho spinning around the room happily. 

Minho’s always loved Haven. Everyone loves Haven. Because it makes them feel at home, it, quite literally, is a  _ haven _ . For STAYS and Stray Kids. For non-STAYS. For anyone and everyone who could ever need it, they’re here for them.  _ Chan’s _ there for them. And today, Minho is here for Chan. 

Minho falls to the ground lightly, catching himself so he doesn’t get hurt. He folds his legs into a criss cross, looking at Chan with interest. Now..now he should do it. He should  _ probably _ dance to Sweater Weather now. 

Chan stops recording and puts his phone away. There’s a yellow balloon next to him, one with a wiggly smiley face drawn on to it in Sharpie, with the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” written on the back. There are similar balloons everywhere in the dorms, credits to the children, of course. 

It’s Chan’s birthday. And it’s time for Minho to give the love of his life his present. Minho hopes he likes it. 

“It’s your birthday, Channie.” Minho says, unblinking. Chan nods. 

“Yes. Yes it is.” 

“I got you a gift.”

Chan frowns. “You didn’t have to.” 

Minho rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Yes, yes, I know I didn’t  _ have _ to, but I did. Do you think I should change?” 

Chan looks him over, eyes trailing from the messy bedhead Minho sports to the baggy tank top that definitely is  _ not _ sliding off his shoulders again to the shorts he has that don’t really do much except showcase the wonderful thighs he has. Chan shakes his head no. 

Minho smiles wryly, telling Chan that he hopes he likes it and starts stretching. Chan’s eyes widen, and Minho knows he knows what’s going to happen. After Minho has deemed himself warm enough, he calls for Lexie to play Sweater Weather. Chan’s eyes are big as saucers now, eyes brimming with unshed tears that make his eyes look sparkly and glossed over. Minho smiles shyly and gets into position. 

It’s now or never. 

As the first chords start to play in Sweater Weather (KHS version), Minho thinks back to the first time he met Chan, to the memories they’ve had together, to the memories they’re going to make. 

And then he  _ dances _ . 

\---

Suffice to say, Chan was a complete and utter mess by the time Minho was done. Sweater Weather has always been a special song to him, and Minho knows that. Which is why he covered it. Just for Chan. Because Minho thinks that Chan has entire galaxies in his eyes and a whole universe in his heart. Because Minho thinks Chan is too kind for his own good, breaking and building himself back up for other people. 

Minho can’t remember a proper time where Chan has fully let himself go. Except for today. 

They’re back in their room. The light has diminished fully, gone from their room. The only light source they have is a shitty old unicorn lamp that Felix bought as a joke to give to Changbin. They all got attached, and the rest is history. 

Minho has Chan in his arms again, legs tangled together as the piano version of Idol plays in the room. Minho hums the lyrics, rocking Chan back and forth in his arms. His voice cracks sometimes, but they both giggle and choose to brush it off, Chan pressing a kiss to his lips as a distraction. Minho growls at him again and Chan tries to do the same, but he ends up purring instead. 

Minho giggles, booping their noses together. “I thought I was the kitty in this relationship?” Chan rolls his eyes and bites Minho’s nose lightly as punishment for his snark. 

“Yes you are.” Chan says seriously. “ _ My _ kitten.” 

MInho flushes, blood rushing to his cheeks. He grumbles under his breath, diving under the covers to hide. Chan laughs evilly, hands reaching into the covers to find the body of his lover. Minho squeals when he feels the first touch, rolling away into a protective stance. Chan pounces after him, only an inch away from rolling off the bed (again). 

Minho notices and pulls him back in, laughing happily. 

He’s happy. He’s safe. 

Chan’s his haven. 

**Author's Note:**

> so uh yeah heh i hoped you liked it i rlly do cause i kinda rlly like this one >< anyways pLEASE PLEASE drop a comment i need validation even if its just you saying hi or wtv but uh yeah 
> 
> note that i wrote this all listening to DooPiano's cover of Idol by BTS its my emotional support cover and it's so beautiful and by far my favoriet DooPiano cover that they've done so far so pls check that out!!!
> 
> note that this is my 20th fic and i'm happy because 20 is a nice number and yeah i feel Accomplished
> 
> once again: chan i love you so much bang chan best leader!! 
> 
> stay safe everyone~
> 
> (my twt is: @mini_innie if you wanna talk to me i just scream on the tl and post snippets of fics i write)


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